Hellraiser:The family legacy
by MuseiRain
Summary: Alisa is having nightmares but may soon find out they are quite real and involve the cenobites and pinhead.
1. Dreams

A box held tightly by her hand as she moved along. The smell was repulsive. A smell of corpses and burnt flesh. Decaying human forms. There were endless doors in a labyrinth that seemed without end. Screams echoing for what seemed forever. Doors led to rooms with bodys hanging from ceilings by metallic chains. Many many bodys dripping into pools of blood drenching the floors in red liquid. Alisas breathing would grow faster and faster. Her heart seemed to beat to no end. She aspired to find a way back to her reality. A reality that didnt exist in this world. All she could remember was the box. The cube with the mysterious tune before it opened. She wished she never had touched it but as they say curiousity kills the cat but for now she is alive.

Frantically searching for a door. A door of any kind to her world. The pathways. The labyrith of a hellish dimension contained nightmarish beings around every corner. She hears faint whispers of their name. The cenobites always following the mysterious beings with pins made to remain in his entire skull. Alisa Kept telling herself this cant be real. Denial would give her no hope here. In this hellish plane of existance. Eventually like everytime in this dream she has over and over. Or what she believed and kept telling herself was a dream. She would end up on a metallic chain. Hanging there with a painting of a unknown man in a green military uniform. She thought he resembled someone in family photos from the past. Her family often would not talk of him.

The man with nails in his skull would softly walk in with eyes of pure black. Black like the abyssal paint strokes in the background of the painting. She had not that heart or strength to fight back aginst this mysterious fiqure and his wicked smile yet without expression on his face.

The death in the air seemed to surround him.

"Tears are worthless my dear alisa. If only you knew the joy and sheer pleasure of pain and suffering. I assure you your suffering will be even legendary in hell. You didnt think you could open the box without repaying the debt did you-"

His expression seemed of disappointment as alisa awoke to a phone ringing. She awoke in sweat and heavy breathing and tears down her soft round cheeks. She answered in hestitation.

A voice of a female came on the phone. Said hello and alisa slowly came to speak.

"Hello mom."

"Are you alright alisa. You seem tense." Her mother replied worryed.

"Just a bad dream is all."

She took a deep breath for a moment and glanced at the table next to her bed.

The box sat upon the table.


	2. Homecoming

Alisa has been awake for days now. Refusal to sleep. To not dream. The dream was not a illusion. Was not fake. She knows its all too real now. The wounds from her dream. Had appeared on her body. She had not harmed herself in any way and at any time. It came from the dream. It had come from the hellish dimension with her stalker with the man with pins in his head and his wicked empty black eyes. That smile of death.

Her mind gone to madness. Her body weak and tired from lack of sleep. Her mind dillusional and far too gone. So many questions without so many answers. She sat on her bed sipping hot tea. Aroused by the aroma of the herbs. She put the tea down and softly but weakly picked up the box. She knew only the box can answer these questions. She needed those answers. Why the dreams continue night after night. Why the picture of the painting of the man of military uniform has ties to her family. The box seemed alive in her hands. Like voices of unknown origins emitting from its ancient metallic surface as the creepy yet beatiful tune played as she caressed it. Her eyes bulging with curiousity and answers to her questions seemed so close. Her hands activated the box it fell to the wooden floor. A strange blue light appeared out of the box as it moved by itself into different confiqurations and back to its normal state.

The floor and walls began to shake. The walls made unhuman sounds. The paint of the walls slowly oozed with blood. Alisa sat on the bed in fear. Shaking from head to toe at the opening in her wall. A opening to that place in her dreams. Except it wasnt a dream anymore. The usual noisy city was quiet outside her apartment. No sound at all. Not even birds or the local tram. The cenobites had appeared led by the mysterious man of a skull pentrated by pins. His black eyes of abyssal texture stared forth without emotion he walked forward and halted in movement. His mouth permitted a small unhuman smile. His words spoken in a vile manner with a smokey texture of black escaping his mouth.

"Alisa. Alisa. Your fear can be felt. I see it in your eyes. It pours out of your weak human flesh. You are ignorant of your fear. You know nothing of fear. We have such things to show you. You shall love the answers to your mortal questions." the mysterious fiqure took her hand and led her through the wall.

She could not fight him. Could not escape. Tears fell down her round cheeks. Pinhead let go. The chains tore through her flesh. Instead of tears. Screams escaped her mouth. Blood poured from the wounds and her eyes and mouth. She had lost hope and thought to herself how grimly he would say welcome home alisa.

Her eyes rolled back in her head. So much pain and suffering. She was no longer aware of the world.

The world went black.


	3. It wasnt a dream

Alisa awoken in a office. Soft classical music playing. Slowly she sits up to find a psychiatrist Staring at her with his hands folded. She wondered if she was going insane. Was she going mad. Was the dream indeed just a dream. She laid back on the sofa. Looking around to find the psychiatrist behind a desk sitting in what seemed a leather chair. He was writing things on the paper and set it down and stared emotionless at her for a second and finally spoken.

"Alisa you had a bad spill. The doctors from the hospital had asked me to examine you. Seems you been without sleep for days." He mildly smiled.

She pulled out a cigeratte and light it and layed her head back with words escaping her mouth with hesitation.

"You wouldnt understand. You would think ive gone insane. Mad even."

He paused for a moment looking over hospital records and papers and scanned the papers and paused and sipped his cup of coffee. Gave a insurance glance that he was listening and open to new doors of knowledge.

"Ive seen worse cases in my time. Been in this field of work for many years. You wouldnt believe what ive seen in-" He paused noticing she was going to finish his sentence.

"That youve seen in what." She smiled for once in a few days. She felt at peace here for once. Even if for a moment that was good enough for her then he finished his words.

"You wont believe what ive seen in hell alisa. Such sights to show you alisa. Beatiful sights and experiences of pain and suffering you couldnt begin to fanthom."

She was terrifyed and tilted her head to see the box. The room turned slowly fading into the scene of a room in the labyrinth. She was barely conscious blood pouring off her body. Falling like rivers of red liquid down her smooth rotting skin to the floors of hell. The metallic chains holding her as she waits for more pain and suffering that never would end.

"But I thought it was a dream." She said before the man with pins looked upon her with no emotion or regard for her. A grim smile escaped his lips as the cenobites stood by his side.

"Indeed alisa. Dreams of many centurys of pain and suffering of immense pleasure that will be legendary even in hell."


	4. The familys legacy

Alisas mother layed awake in her sofa. Remebering the day she was visiting and found the cops outside. Tears would haunt her cheeks remebering the sight of chains laying on her daughters bed. The room pratically covered in blood and all that was left was not even her daughter but the box that brought sadness and haunting feelings of fear. The mother grabbed the box and slipped it in her purse. That day would never be forgotten. It would haunt her for decades and centuries. Perhaps her entire life. With is such the case in most deaths.

Alisas father came in noticing his wife in distress holding the picture of her daughter. He saw her eyes empty and full of despair. She clenched the picture hard looking at the box on the mantle. Everything was so vivid to her. The room. The box. The funereal. The rose she left on the grave of alisa. Death may be a new door but is still not kind to those left behind. None of it comforted her cause she knew alisa wasnt dead. Alisa was in for a eternity of pain and suffering and the mother felt it was her fault.

The father held her and tried to think of ways to comfort her but knew deep down nothing would. They both knew the truth. They knew that part of the familys legacy. They knew about the uncle named frank who would later become the mysterious man with pins in his head. The man who is a angel to some and a demon to others. They knew they wished that frank never found the box. For that moment changed their family forever. The uncle would become pinhead. The being known for countless unknown eternity of suffering and pain for the poor unfortuent souls who found the box down the years after franks transformation.

"The box stops with us. Its legacy stops with us. No more will he haunt and torture. No more will end up like our daughter. We should of told her the truth when she asked about the photograph." She felt remorse and guilt so strongly the tears seemed forever.

"You know the box always finds a way into anothers hands but not as long as we live. Not as long as we live."

The box sat in a glass container by the photographs of family. Frank and her daughter were a few of those photographs. The moon gleamed through the window upon the box and the photographs.

The photographs were a reminder of a legacy.


End file.
